


The Love Song of Joss Whedon

by crowleyshouseplant



Category: Jossverse RPF
Genre: Meta Poetry, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowleyshouseplant/pseuds/crowleyshouseplant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T.S Eliot did it better but hey whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Love Song of Joss Whedon

Let us see then, you and I  
The silver screen spread like a grey sky  
A blank canvas sloppy on the table  
Let us see through a cyclopsed camera lense  
The waiting cishet bros  
Nerdfaced inserts in his pulp fiction  
And the pompous grandiose charmed one-lined diction  
Scripts that follow like a tedious arrangement  
Of predictable intent  
To lead us to an overwhelming question.  
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”  
Let us go and make our visit.

On the screen the women come and go  
He says he’s feminist, you know

The ne’er-do-well cads surround their heroine  
The girls who postcard as his Strong Female figurine  
Slur-licked words in the margins of the script  
Lingering lies for his puppeteering pantomime  
Written by the book, got awards to prove it  
And seeing that it’s just another show, another deal  
Let’s just call it done, he’s the one, the real Big Shit

And indeed there will be time  
For his yea-sayers to be so inclined to change their minds  
Betrayed once, betrayed twice, Et tu Brute again  
There will be time, there will be time  
To prepare a face for his audience that he’ll find  
There will be time to murder and create,  
And time for all the works and plays of hands  
That lift and drop a question on your plate  
Time for you and time for him  
And time yet for a hundred decisions  
And for a hundred visions and revisions  
Yet always one that keeps the mewling quim.

On the screen the women come and go  
He says he’s feminist, you know.

And indeed there will be time  
To wonder does he dare does he really dare  
On the backs of women ascend his star-studded stair  
A grey fedora resting on his balding hair  
(they will say, how does he do it to them  
to preserve his fantasies like it says on the tin)  
He forgot Hill, forgot Wanda, and forgot River Tam  
But he’ll call action! and just not give a damn.

Does he dare  
Preserve the universe?  
In a minute there is time  
For decisions and revisions which nothing will reverse

For I have known him already, known him well  
Have known his Starks, Xanders, and Lokis  
He has measured his life in oki-dokeys  
Listen to the voices dying with a dying call  
Beneath the fridge within a room he calls his own  
but he’s a feminist right? how dare we presume.

he grows bold, he grows bold  
swallowed hook, line, and sinker sold.

See how he struts like Stark? Action here, fist there, c’mon bros  
Look at him build the gate, standing watch at the close  
Whedon, Whedon where does your garden grow?

I have heard him waxing long beyond the grave  
Of ladies’ will and bodies too, autonomy forgot  
White nerds, they’re heroes too we must forget them not

Listen to his bloody siren call wailing from the sea  
By languid lagoons sour with forgotten girls  
Shiny, pretty toys for him to dance and twirl.

On the screen the women come and go.  
He says he’s feminist, you know.


End file.
